


What's Upsexy?

by Amavinca (Wes)



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Jokes, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Clover Ebi Lives, Established Relationship, Flirting, Kissing, M/M, Probably ooc, Sparring, Swordfighting, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22770739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wes/pseuds/Amavinca
Summary: (Add. Tags: But only a small bit, you'll see in the notes, look I latched onto Fair Game because I've loved Qrow since S3 and I just want him to be happy, also because in the same season Qrow found a husband Winter found a new wife and I'm so happy for both of them, CRWBY blz I’m begging let teams RWBY and JNPR and all associated friends of theirs be happy.)Clover accidentally hooks Qrow's shirt while sparring and rips it open. There’s some flirting and he says a bad joke, that’s it, that’s the fic.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66





	What's Upsexy?

**Author's Note:**

> > The general idea behind a canon rewrite for this fic is that during the chaos of mantle rising there were a couple other murders and those are the things Robyn and Qrow get framed for. Ironwood changed his mind and didn’t raise the city, and during the fight Clover came to his senses but as soon as he changed targets Tyrian went for a Stab; Qrow’s semblance made him slip on ice so he missed and hit Clover’s pin, so instead his tail slid off and scraped his shoulder, poisoning him. Clover passed out and woke up in the hospital with minimal damage.  
> > Arguably this has a ton MORE plot holes. Who died? How did they find them in the chaos? How could Tyrian pin it on Qrow and Robyn, depending on who was found and where? Does it matter? Yes. For this fic? No lol I just wanted an excuse to have Clover signing off on releasing them from jail lmao 
> 
> Disclaimer: I’ve only watched three fights from S7 and only know very little of the story from my friend watching it and from reading stuff on Tumblr/the wikia, so I don’t know the full details but I know that I’m mad and my critiques from S5 onward still haven’t changed, nor has the writing really improved. Yes, I think Miles and Kerry are getting better, yes I think they still have room to grow. Does this mean they aren’t falling back on old shock value tropes they’ve used before in previous seasons to jerk some free tears from us? No. There were some parts of S6 and S7 that genuinely regained me a little hope in the writing team, and I’m holding out that S8 will see a lot of improvement in writing direction. I think they have some really good ideas and just suffer from wanting to do too much at once, and not prioritizing what's integral to the story, and what's just for comic relief or shock value/stakes raising. Also I just want them to stop killing characters with little to no stakes in the plot, or that could have much more potential or be bigger players, off for some free tears. Like, Penny/Pyrrha/Adam I get, Pyrrha needed to die (sadly) for the plot and Adam’s death was liberating but Raven’s second? Clover? Roman? Were these really necessary lol It worked once or twice. 3+ times is too many lmao.

Clover always did love a good sparring session. He was glad that Qrow agreed with him on the matter, and that he was willing to practice when they had some downtime. Granted, that wasn’t too often, but he’d take the small freedoms when he could. It also gave him more time to spend with Qrow, which was always a bonus in his book.

The last time they'd spared was a couple days before Salem's attack on Mantle. They'd had some free time before lunch that day and decided to have a quick spar. Qrow was so much more graceful in battle than he was out of it; he moved like a dancer, all long legs and spins of his scythe. He was strong too, to be able to swing Harbinger around like he did, and used the weapon’s weight and momentum to his advantage. Even his own bad luck couldn't hinder him, as he tended to work with or around it and twist it to his benefit. 

Sometimes Clover was impressed he could keep up with Qrow at all. It was no wonder Ruby was such an impressive fighter if she’d trained under her Uncle. More often than not Qrow would push his advantages and fight dirty, making Clover take a defensive stance; even if he could get hits in, Qrow would effortlessly spin out of them to recover, knocking Kingfisher away in the process.

Still, his weakness seemed to be long-ranged combat. Clover found it much easier to disengage, take a high vantage point, and make Qrow come to him. His gun only did so much. Clearing the distance tired Qrow just enough—if Clover was lucky—that he would miss a critical block and allow himself to get hooked by Kingfisher. From there, Clover could throw him around and even the score a little.

Qrow was getting better about it though. It was during that last spar, that when Clover had hooked him he’d dug Harbinger into the ground and held himself in place. Just Qrow’s luck that his sword didn’t dig in deep enough and he was still yanked, but Clover had to give him props for trying. That day, they’d called their spar early and went to lunch together, although Qrow seemed distracted until his kids joined them; he’d probably been thinking about the spar, and the best way to cover his own weaknesses to better deal with someone from a much longer range. Clover loved a man who self-reflected, really.

They hadn’t really any free time since then. Between missions and campaigns and assassination attempts and James nearly raising the city and almost-murders multiple times, the amount of paperwork to fill out was starting to weigh on Clover. He'd read through so many reports and waivers his eyes were getting blurry. Damn, he'd never wanted to _go back_ to a hospital before, but using that to escape how much more work he had to do was an appetizing idea. He was glad when Qrow nudged the door open with his tie, interrupting Clover’s thoughts witha kiss to his temple and a fresh cup of coffee. Long, calloused fingers soothing the tense muscles in his neck.

“Seems like you could use a break,” Qrow murmured.

“I could use some _help,_ if you want to,” Clover said, with no bite in his tone. He just wanted to take a day off and finally spend it with his lover. 

“I’ve got my own paperwork to fill out,” Qrow said. He hummed when Clover hissed, focusing on a particularly tense knot in his shoulder.

“Signing field trip forms for the kids?”

“It’s about Tyrian.”

“Oh.”

They slid into silence. Clover turned over another paper, skimmed through it, signed the bottom. Most of the papers were sent by Robyn’s office and Ironwood himself, basically confirming reports from his team and the kids about the incident in Mantle. Tyrian’s name had come up a few times, but most of them were regarding releasing Qrow and Robyn after they’d been framed by him for murder, releasing Clover himself from the hospital and confirming he was cleared for duty, and categorizing reports of where Tyrian escaped to. It was frustrating, to say the least, that not only had he murdered not one but two politicians, but had managed to escape in the chaos of Ironwood almost raising Mantle higher and leaving the populace behind.

Clover flicked his pen in his fingers. When he didn’t catch it on the third spin, Qrow touched his hand.

“Come on. Let’s take a break. Are you okay to spar?”

“A spar’s a good idea. Being in that hospital bed for a week couldn’t have been good for me,” Clover finally conceded, leaning back in his chair. He stared upside-down at his partner. His boyfriend. Red eyes stared back at him, soft.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Qrow said. His fingers smoothed over Clover's shoulders, one hand slipping just a bit lower to play with the now-scratched lucky pin at his breast. 

“You saved me. What would I have done if Tyrian hadn’t slipped and hit my pin?” Clover asked, his voice light. 

“I was still scared. Even a scratch could be lethal…”

“Hey.” Clover reached up to pat Qrow’s cheek. “It wasn’t. I’m still here. We’ll find him.”

Qrow leaned into the touch with a huff, closing his eyes. Clover could tell he wasn’t entirely soothed, nor did he believe that Tyrian wouldn’t get away again, but for the moment what mattered was that Clover was still hear and able to touch Qrow like this. Assure him that he was alive. Protect him if things went south again. He wasn’t sure how long they were standing there, Qrow’s hands on his shoulders and his hand on Qrow’s face, but Clover finally pat his partner’s cheek.

“No falling asleep now. Though I wouldn’t mind kissing you awake.”

The shifter snorted. He squeezed Clover’s shoulders as he stood and pulled away. Then, taking his hand, he pulled Clover out of his office and towards the training grounds. At least one room would be open for them to take. Sure enough, there was one with a thirty minute slot, just before another group. Qrow quickly filled out the form on the scroll, sliding in effortlessly when the door opened. Clover hadn’t noticed when Qrow had walked into his office, but he already had Harbinger strapped to his back. Luckily Kingfisher’s travel form was compact, so Clover kept it on his belt at all times.

The room whirred to life, the gentle hum of technology fading to background noise. Qrow readied himself across the room from Clover, stretching his arms above his head. Then, with a graceful spin, he grew Harbinger off his back and extended it to its full broadsword mode. Clover matched Qrow’s flashy gesture and extended Kingfisher; he could use some swordplay practice, as he had been depending on his hook, and if Qrow wasn’t going for his scythe first Clover had no reason to back up. 

Qrow quirked his head with a smirk. He was alive suddenly, dashing forward with Harbinger raised. Clover dodged him with a spin, the clang of their weapons echoing the room. Clover didn’t waste any time moving in, making sure to press his advantage so Qrow couldn’t fully utilize his weapon. The man was always so quick to meet Clover head-on though, and they exchanged stabs and blocks for what felt like an hour. 

Qrow was the one to hop back first. Clover gave chase but had to stop short as Qrow swung Harbinger out as his feet. He let the weapon carry him into a spin that helped him back up again; the next thing Clover knew he had a scythe hooked around his waist and Qrow trapping him against the blade with a hand at his collar. Impossibly close red eyes were alight with mirth. 

“You’re off your game, Cloves,” Qrow chided. 

“Been a while." Clover let his breath out when Qrow released him. 

"It's only been a week. What's got you distracted?" 

Did he really seem that out of it? If it was obvious to Qrow, who else would notice him slipping? Clover really needed to get his head back in the game, or at least get some sleep. 

"We don't have to do this right now," Qrow started, but Clover shook his head. 

"I'm just a little sleep deprived. Being active is good for me anyway," he said. Raising Kingfisher up, he shot Qrow a wink. "Besides, seeing you in action is a welcome break from work." 

Qrow sniffed and readied Harbinger, ready to meet him. This time, Clover rushed forward. He feinted to Qrow's right, side-stepping away to his left when he swing Harbinger to parry. Once behind Qrow, Clover used the fishing wire to hook the back of his collar. From there it was a simple dance to tie Qrow up and send him twirling away. Qrow braced himself with Harbinger once he regained his footing, head clearly spinning. 

" _I'm_ off my game?" Clover teased. Qrow shot him a look, nose wrinkled, and righted himself quickly.

He charged in again, zipping into Clover's space. Their weapons danced again; this time, Qrow wouldn't even let Clover get within spitting distance of him. Every time Clover tried to maneuver behind or around him, Qrow followed with a spin. Once, he swung out at Clover's feet mid-step, tripping him. Clover managed to land in a roll a far enough distance away that Qrow was starting to aim his gun. Clover tossed Kingfisher's line. 

Qrow spun Harbinger again, the hook harmlessly bouncing off. Then, he dashed forward to clear the distance. Clover threw the line again, this time getting a lucky shot that passed just over Qrow's arm when he went to block. 

Clover couldn’t tell if it was his good luck or Qrow’s bad luck that made Kingfisher snatch just under the top button of his partner’s shirt. When he yanked, just like the last spar, Qrow dug his heels into the ground. Depending on Harbinger’s scythe form to not let him get pulled was a much better strategy, as the curved blade hooked into the ground and held fast. Instead of pulling the man, Clover merely pulled his clothes; unluckily (maybe) all the buttons tore free. Clover didn’t even see where they all flew off to, not when he was so distracted by the gorgeous, pale, scar-stricken skin of Qrow’s now-bare torso.

“Just my luck you’d get my shirt,” Qrow huffed as he plucked the metal hook from his lapel.

Just his luck indeed.

Clover stared for entirely too long. He hadn't really gotten a chance to see Qrow in anything less than an undershirt yet; they'd barely had time for anything more than cuddling with their hectic schedules. Clover didn’t move from his stance, not even when Qrow straightened himself and put his hands on his hips. The way his chest heaved as he caught his breath was much too distracting; it enunciated his lithe, toned body, the muscles built from years of hunting and training and traveling. There was a fine sheen of sweat at his collarbones, unfortunately washed out by the harsh light of the training grounds. By the deities if Clover didn’t want to see him in organic light. Qrow cocked his head—it was a strangely bird-like gesture—and didn’t take his eyes off Clover’s face.

“You okay there, Boyscout?”

“I’m—“ Clover covered the croak of his voice with a cough, standing and righting himself. He collapsed Kingfisher to its travel form and hooked the weapon to his belt.

“I’m fine,” he finally said. Qrow’s amused snort did not escape him.

“We should end it for the day. The shirt’s enough of a casualty, and it’s getting close to time too,” Clover said. He made to look anywhere other than his partner; that, he was sure, did not escape Qrow.

Sure enough, Qrow stepped forward towards him. They were almost chest to chest when Clover realized his eyes had been stuck on Qrow’s collar, just below his neck; he sheepishly met his partner’s eyes.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you to cover up so you don’t distract boys?” Clover managed. His voice felt about as weak as his joke.

Qrow laughed. Tossed his head back, exposed the long line of his throat. Clover swallowed down the urge to lean in and taste.

“When I learned to fight, I was told being a distraction on purpose is a legitimate tactic. Seems to work well,” Qrow muttered. He shifted his weight, cocking his hip this time.

“Oh, of course, of course. Always using unfair tactics,” Clover answered. He stepped a little closer, puffed out his chest more—Qrow really was just asking for Clover to unabashedly stare. And when he gave in, Clover could practically see Qrow preening. His smirk was a strong enough indication that he liked Clover’s eyes on him.

Clover let his eyes travel down Qrow’s bare chest appreciatively. He reached out to touch, changing his mind at the last second and moving his hand up to cup Qrow’s face; his thumb stroked Qrow’s cheekbone while Clover took him in. He noted the tone of Qrow's muscles and the rise and fall of his chest. Faster than resting, but Clover would like to think wasn’t just from the spar. He took in the multitude of small scars peppered across his skin as well, but especially the large line straight across his stomach. It was a story for another day, to be sure, and a spot to gently soothe and worship. No, not just there. Qrow’s whole body was something Clover would worship eagerly, if his partner would let him.

“Like what you see?” Qrow breathed finally, drawing him back. Clover’s eyes flicked up to meet Qrow’s again.

“You’re beautiful,” he said honestly. Qrow flushed about as red as his eyes; Clover only really saw it in his peripheral vision but chuckled at him anyway.

“I mean it. You’re gorgeous. Scars and everything.”

“If that’s what you’re into...” Qrow muttered, squirming in his hold. Clover didn’t let him go, wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him closer. Qrow’s hands pressed against his chest, but he didn’t seem intent on pulling away. When they were flush Clover pressed his forehead against Qrow’s. Thankfully, Qrow leaned into the contact too. 

“Hey. No deflecting. I really do think you’re stunning.”

“Beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, you know any other words that aren’t synonyms for pretty?”

“Do you not want me to call you pretty?”

Qrow hesitated to answer, breath bated. Finally, he released his sigh and let himself lean heavier against Clover’s warm body. Their lips brushed barely and their breaths mingled as Qrow spoke in a hushed tone.

“It’s just hard to accept that you feel like that. No one’s said that to me, not since I was with Summer...”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say it.”

“Sorry—“

“Don’t be.”

Qrow shifted again in his hold but still didn’t make to pull away. Clover tilted his chin just slightly to peck Qrow’s lips. The shifter obliged with an equally chaste motion, cheeks radiating heat.

“Make it up to me,” Clover murmured.

“Huh?”

“Let me keep complimenting you. Just for a little longer. I doubt I could say these things with the kids or my team around.”

That pulled a laugh out of Qrow.

“You can flirt shamelessly with me in front of them, but this is too much?”

“It’s so much more intimate,” Clover said, stroking Qrow’s cheek again. Qrow went silent, eyes slipping shut.

“Yeah, I... I think I’d die if you said any of this in front of them,” he conceded after a moment.

“Can’t have that, can we.”

Qrow smoothed his hands over Clover’s chest. The two stood in silence, holding each other. One of Qrow's hands found Clover’s shoulder; the scar from Tyrian’s tail was hidden under his patched uniform now. Thinking that they matched crossed his mind, but Clover shook his head to chase it away. When Qrow raised an eyebrow at him, Clover merely chuckled under his breath.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?”

“I'm just enjoying your company right now." 

Qrow pecked Clover's lips again. "Me too..."

His voice was so quiet. Clover barely heard him over the whirring room. Qrow let out a soft sigh as his hands moved up to rest on Clover's shoulders—one hand slid up a little further to card through the short hairs at his neck. 

"Hey," Clover murmured. He pulled back so he could look at Qrow's face fully. "I'd like to kiss you." 

“Do it then.”

Clover liked when Qrow didn’t hesitate. It happened when they were battling, or when he was talking back to authority, or when they were alone together. Especially when they were alone together. Qrow tilted his chin up to meet Clover, their lips barely brushing and itching for something more when the door slid open.

Marrow stopped in his tracks when he saw them. Qrow and Clover didn’t split apart, only their heads snapping over to stare at him. His tail stood straight behind him, flat to his back, grey eyes wide as he tried to stammer out an apology. Harriet came in next, Ruby on her tail, and then Blake. As soon as Qrow saw black hair with a splash of red over Harriet’s shoulder—she was rolling her eyes at Clover, he did see that, yes—he was out of Clover’s hold and gathering Harbinger. He pulled his shirt closed and held it tight; Clover chuckled to himself, even thought Ruby was sixteen both of her uncles knew how comically immature she could be when she wanted to tease. 

"Uncle Qrow! Uncle Clover!" She greeted cheerfully, bounding over to them. Qrow sheathed Harbinger at his back and ruffled her hair. 

"Hey, kiddo. Getting some training in?" 

"Yup! Harriet's gonna teach me some tips on how to get faster with my semblance." 

"Don't know if that's such a good idea, you'll be moving at light speed," Qrow chuckled. Ruby giggled at him, zipping back to Blake's side.

"If you don't mind me asking," Blake intoned, "what happened to your clothes?" 

"Lost one too many buttons to an unlucky hook of Clover's. Don't slip on any, we've had no injuries so far and we want to keep it that way."

"Unlucky..." Blake snorted, but shook her head and said, "We'll be careful. I'll keep an eye on Ruby."

"Thanks. It's time we get going then?" Qrow inclined his head towards Clover, holding out a hand to him.

"Back to paperwork," Clover sighed. Then, to Harriet and Marrow, said, "don't be too rough on them."

"No promises," Harriet smirked.

Clover took Qrow's hand and let himself be led from the room. When the door slid closed behind them, Qrow dropped his hand from his collar to his pocket. His shirt fell open again. Clover snuck a quick glance he knew Qrow noticed. 

"Got anymore compliments then, Lucky Charm?" Qrow asked with a smirk. Clover shrugged. 

"Thought you didn't want to be called pretty."

“I never said that. Though, I think I’d like it better if you called me ‘hot’ or ‘sexy.’”

Clover chuckled and nodded. He could do that. But first... 

“Oh so like something something upsexy?” He said, the last few words a quick near-whisper, just enough that only Qrow could hear them. 

“What did you say—what’s upsexy?”

“Nothing much, what’s up with you?”

“Clo—Deities, Cloves, come on,” Qrow barked a laugh, elbowing Clover in the arm. Clover laughed raucously, shaking his head. He was glad to see Qrow laughing again, that was a treasure in itself. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay also 100% while all of this was happening, Winter and Robyn were at home smooching on the couch and watching movies together to relax from all that hard work lol Robyn probably taught Qrow how to give a good massage because HEAVENS KNOWS Winter needs it lol


End file.
